


Boring Life

by Kalgalen



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-02-19 14:32:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2391833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalgalen/pseuds/Kalgalen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Contrary to a widespread idea, Felix and Locus don't spend their time running around the galaxy starting wars and getting outsmarted by rainbow-colored troopers (aka this is totally self-indulgent Lolix domestic fluff.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The one with the Green Shirt

Locus usually ignores Felix strolling in his apartment, because the guy is half-naked more often than not and Locus really doesn’t have the willpower to tell him to put a shirt on six times a day before he just gives up and kicks him out of the room.

But this time, a flash of green catches his attention and makes him rise his eyes from his book.

Surprisingly, Felix is fully clothed.

Problem is, those are not his clothes.

"Is that my shirt?" Locus asks.

He already knows the answer, but it’s always a good distraction to observe Felix try to come up with an explanation.

Felix glances down at the t-shirt. It’s obviously too big for him, and a lot plainer than what he usually wears.

"Uh. Yeah, it is." he answers, surprisingly honest.

"…Why are you wearing my shirt?"

Felix smirks - this means troubles. He walks to Locus, slaps the book out of his hands - perfectly aware he will pay for this later - and drops on Locus’ lap.

"Because, dearest," and he throws an arm around Locus’ shoulder, staring lovingly in his eyes, "I like wearing your smell."

Locus glares at him.

"You didn’t do your laundry and you don’t have any clothes left," he guesses.

Felix looks offended.

"Why are you so unromantic?"

More glaring. Felix sighs dramatically.

"Laundry is so boring, babe."

Locus pushes him on the ground. Yelp.

"Rude!"


	2. The One with the Pet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unsurprisingly, Felix's choice of pet is... unconventional.

Felix is gaping, speechless, frozen in the doorway.

Had Locus had any hope of the quietness lasting more than a minute, he would have enjoyed each second of it. Unfortunately, he knows Felix. Usually more than he’d liked to.

Sure enough, Felix lets out a slightly disbelieving laugh.

"Why the fuck are you wearing that?"

Locus throws him a dirty look, mechanically adjusting his gloves.

"You didn’t tell me who "Doll" was," he growls. He means to sound threatening; at his great dismay, it comes out as whiny instead.

Felix blinks, looking confused.

"Dollars? You knew she was my pet."

"Yes."

"Then what’s the problem?"

"Why didn’t you see fit to tell me its species before asking me to sit it?" Locus spits out.

He refuses to call that thing a “she”. Felix looks annoyed - and how dares he? Locus is the one who has the right to be pissed.

"How is her species relevant? I got everything ready! Her cage was clean, her food was in the box near the window…"

Locus snorts.

"Yes, "food"."

Felix raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah, the food. What, did you have any troubles catching them?"

"Well, they were alive.”

Felix drops his bag and throws his hands in the air.

"Of course, they were alive! She’s a python, she eats live mice!"

Blank. Felix notices Locus’ disgruntled expression, his arms wrapped around himself in an uncharacteristic expression of uneasiness. Pieces click together, and a dangerous spark lights up in his eyes.

"…Wait, are you scared of snakes?"

Looks like Christmas came early for that particular asshole. Locus tugs at the sleeves of his shirt, far too long for the hot weather - but perfect to cover any bits of skin Felix’s nightmare of a pet could find worthy of biting into. Felix is grinning like a maniac.

"Oh. My. God. Are you?" he asks, gripping Locus arm.

Locus takes a step back to escape the grasp, a disgusted expression on his usually impassive face.

"Am I what?" he grumbles, looking somewhere behind Felix’s left ear.

Felix lets out a laugh and leans again in his personal space, looking up at him.

"C’mon, big guy, don’t play tough with me right now."

There’s a moment of silence, during which Locus ignores very deliberately Felix’s half-hopeful, half-excited expression.

“I’m not…fond of them,” he ends up mumbling, just to stop Felix from getting any closer to his face.

The attempt fails. Felix looks pleased and puts a hand on his cheek. Locus tries not to think about how it feels like the other man is petting him.

“Aww. You still took care of her, though. For three long weeks.”

“I gave my word.”

“You’re scared of snakes, and yet you stayed.” A crooked smile appears on his face. “This, this deserves a reward.”

Locus frowns. He’s not sure he’s going to appreciate that, whatever it turns out to be. Felix takes him by the arm and drags him inside.

“Let’s get you out of those clothes, shall we?”

Maybe not as bad as he expected.


	3. The One with the Pet (Karma's a bitch)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Locus prefers more classic animals. Somehow Felix isn't happy about it.

Felix stares down at the beast, defying the black, void gaze. By the way its tongue is pointing out of its mug, Felix can tell it’s trying to decide between jumping at his throat or going for the ankle.

The man grips his weapon tighter, straightening his back. He squints, scrunches up his nose-

The loud sneeze that follow sends his opponent yelping and running to hide cowardly behind its master’s legs as he enters the room. Locus immediately picks up the puppy and glares at Felix.

“What’s going on here?” he asks, distractedly scratching the dog behind its floppy ears. It yaps happily and nuzzles against his hand.

Felix wipes some tears off his reddening, swollen eyes.

“Your stupid pet is trying to kill me, that’s what,” he sniffs, surly.

“Good,” Locus answers dryly. “Does that mean you’re going to leave?”

“Rude.” Felix tears another tissue from the roll he’s clutching and blows his nose. “You know I can’t go back to my apartment. It’s freezing and Dolly wouldn’t survive there.”

Locus glowers at the cage covered by a piece of cloth in a corner of the room. He looks like he’s wondering why he hasn’t throw Felix and his animal out of his home yet.

Keeping the dog in his arms, he goes to sit in his armchair.

“Freezing. And whose fault is that, again?”

Felix doesn’t answer, looking away with a sullen expression on his face. He knows Locus already knows. This is not the first time that has happened: Felix “forgot” to pay his electricity bills (might be because he doesn’t like giving his money away, but Locus doesn’t have any proofs). His apartment is icy until the following week, and Dollars, delicate creature that she is, isn’t fond of low temperatures.

As much as Locus seems to dislike snakes, he let Felix set the cage in a warm spot as long as he didn’t have to see it, and everything was as fine as it could be until Locus’ new companion trotted into the living room.

Turned out, Felix is allergic to dogs.

Just his luck.

Felix tries to breathe in. He notices Locus frowning at the disgusting noise he produces. _Good_. He does it again, just for the satisfaction of seeing Locus’ brows furrow even more.

Eventually, he ends up sticking two pieces of tissue up his nose to stop it from running and crashes onto the sofa, legs kicked on one of its arms. Locus has picked up the morning newspaper and is going through it quickly - for the second time of the day, Felix guesses. His fingers are still lightly caressing the dog’s head, and the animal is resting its head on its master’s lap, looking perfectly content.

 _Fleabag_ , Felix thinks.

Felix pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming. He closes his eyes a moment, listening to the faint sound of traffic several stories below and the occasional sound of crumpled paper as Locus turns to another page. It’s calm and anybody would appreciate it - anybody not used to a much more animated everyday life.

Felix opens his eyes, jumps back on his feet.

“I’m bored,” he declares. His voice comes out pathetically nasal, but the expression of annoyance on Locus’ face when he looks up at him makes his own discomfort worthwhile.

“Do you have to walk around with tissues shoved up your nostrils?” Locus questions.

“Depends.” Felix answers. “Do you want me to get snot all over your stuff?”

Locus makes a face.

“Keep the tissues where they are.”


	4. The One with the... Feelings?

Locus is angry. Locus is confused. Locus isn’t quite sure what this warmth spreading in his guts is, but there’s one thing that he knows: it has to do with Felix.

Now, that’s not exactly a surprise. A lot of things in his life have to do with Felix, more than he’d like. But the feeling he’s experiencing these days is really different from the usual annoyance he gets from hearing his partner’s constant flood of more or less relevant comments.

Felix is currently sprawled on the couch in front of a beauty contest broadcasted on TV, loudly commenting on the physical attributes of the candidates and eating cereals straight out of the bag - Locus’ couch, and Locus’ TV, but damn if he knows where Felix got the Cheerios. He’s absolutely sure those weren’t in his house before, and he would have noticed Felix going out to buy some.

Locus raises his eyes from his book every few minutes to furtively peek at Felix, and everytime, the strange feeling is back, buried in his stomach like a bad bug. It doesn’t feel bad  _per se_ , just unsettling. But Locus doesn’t like being unsettled, and he scrutinizes every move Felix makes, every sound he produces, from the way he purses his lips when one of the persons on screen says something he disapproves of, to the sound he makes at the back of his throat when there’s not enough drama going on for his liking. Locus used to find his quirks aggravating, but instead they make the warmth spread in his chest. It’s embarrassing, really.

"Why are you staring at me, creep?"

Felix is looking at him, squinting suspiciously. Locus blinks, internally reminding himself not to forget exactly how broad Felix’s peripheral vision is.

"I don’t think you should be eating cereals at that hour of the day," he answers, coming up with the first explanation he can think of to explain his behavior.

Felix glances down at the colorful box of his laps and bites back:

"I don’t think that’s any of your business."

He then fishes a handful of rings out of the box and stuffs them in his mouth, munching on it while staring defiantly at Locus. Locus sighs.

"Forget it."

Satisfied, Felix goes back to watching the program, and Locus looks down at his book. He reads a line three times before he realizes it’s the same every time and that he still seems unable to make any sense out of it. He closes the book with a huff in time to see Felix throws a hand in the air, visibly indignant at the judges’ choice.

"Oh come on! She’s so basic! I’m prettier than her. Locus, tell me that I’m pretty."

Felix obviously isn’t waiting for an answer, because he doesn’t even look in his direction, but Locus has to keep himself from assuring his partner that he is, indeed, the prettiest.

Well.

That could be a problem.


	5. To The Dancers In The Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for a prompt from evillythedwarf on Tumblr~

Felix is going to scream. It doesn’t even matter that they are in the middle of the street and that a stream of people is moving around them. He is going to release the most terrifying screech ever and Locus is going to regret his decision to start acting like a weirdo on this precise moment.

“What in the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Felix asks.

He intended to sound authoritative, but instead his voice comes out croaking and pitiful. He shivers and pulls his waterlogged jacket around him, scowling some more. Locus is looking up at the sky, seemingly relishing the feeling of cool water on his face. His eyes are closed, and he looks calmer than Felix ever saw him - there’s a strong difference between the his usual cold demeanor and the peace he seems to be experiencing now.

That’s not Felix’s business, though. His business involves less downpour and risking to catch death, and more warm coffee and an even warmer bed. He tugs some more on Locus’ hands, and his partner finally lets out a long breath.

“It’s raining.”

“Yeah! Yes, it is! And that’s why I’m asking:  _what do you think you’re doing?_ ”

Locus shrugs. The soaked material of his shirt clings to his shoulders.

“It’s nice.”

Felix gapes for a few seconds, trying to process the words.

“We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna  _stop and feel the rain?_ ”

Locus squeezes Felix’s hand, just before pulling him against his chest - and yeah, that’s a surprise. Locus doesn’t often accept physical contact, and encourages it even more rarely. For a moment, Felix is tempted to struggle - they’re both wet, it’s still raining, and people are _looking at them._

But Locus is breathing slowly, with the same level of application he would put in the destruction of a planet. His muscles are relaxed, and his fingers are rubbing tiny circles against Felix’s neck. This is actually _nice_ , Felix realizes.

“Just for a bit, then,” he mumbles into Locus’ shoulder.


End file.
